Season Zero
by illusionallydelicious
Summary: Past fic, following Charlie's 18th birthday and the events preceding his party. Will include swearing, sex, and maybe violence. Small morsoles of sweet here and there. My first fic; be brutal so I get better
1. Chapter 1

On a Sunday

3:40 pm

Philadelphia, PA

It was a quiet day in the Kelly home. Bonnie was making lunch for herself and her son, who was working on invitations to his birthday party. She chatted as he wrote the party information on the store bought cards.

"Who are you inviting, Sweetie?" She inquired.

"The usual: Dennis, Dee, Mac-"

"Who on Earth is Mac?"

Charlie sighed; his mother forgot his friends all the time. It was getting old. "Mac is what Ronnie calls himself now."

He cleared his throat, moving onto the next point. "Mom, you remember how old I'm turning, right?"

"Eighteen!," Bonnie squealed like a game show contestant, "Old enough to vote and drink!"

"And legally an adult, right?" Bonnie nodded in agreement.

Charlie made himself look as grown up as he possibly could. His t shirt was stainless and his not quite broad shoulders were rolled back. Doing this made Dennis look stronger than he actually was, it should work for Charlie, too. "I think I want this party to be just my friends. As in, maybe, without you?"

**Charlie Kicks His Mom Out**

This shouldn't have been as big of a shock as it was to Bonnie. Charlie had been becoming more and more independent recently. He walked with Mac to school every day, he made his own lunch, and he went to the store by himself after school. It was almost as if he never needed her.

Bonnie had Charlie fairly young. Most of her adult life has been built around him. She sent him to Catholic school specifically to have the best education possible and started selling her… um… sexual favors. Christmas was a great time for her sales, but she made it cheaper in exchange for a gift for Charlie. Frank refused to get Charlie anything; he still thought Charlie was aborted.

"Okay," Bonnie said, finally answering Charlie. "you can have your little party without me there." She brought over his sandwich and kissed him on the forehead. "My little gingerbread man."

Charlie blushed a little. He didn't mind his mothers, with lack of a better word, mothering. He always found it comforting, which _did_ embarrass him. He wasn't what one would call "loveable"; like his other friends, he was still technically a virgin and the only one who had never been on a real date. Few people at school liked him, unless he was doing something like eating worms (which taste like a savory version of gummy worms, oddly enough). His Uncle Jack, well, Charlie never could remember what happened when they hung out. It was just darkness, which made him think of a "Nightman" of sorts. His grandma was old and always ranted about his "automatic damnation" because he didn't have a father. Long story short, Bonnie was the only one who made Charlie feel loved, which he was grateful for.

In a party atmosphere, however, Bonnie would out-drink half the guests and possibly attempt to hook up with someone. Charlie was aware, however vaguely, of his mothers conquests. She was a risk of a buzz kill or expressing more than parental affection, which actually _could_ get embarrassing. Thankfully, she seemed ok with not being invited to her sons party. Maybe in the future, when he didn't have anything to lose, she could come back to his birthday parties.

Charlie's cards were done before he knew it. They were ready to be handed out to his friends at school. For once, he couldn't wait for the reentrance into hell. The cards made the party official. On Saturday, his friends will come to visit.

He fantasized about the party a moment: there would be good music and booze, but no "real" drug. Mac and Dennis would be proud and Dee would be confident enough to take off her back brace (which Charlie lacked the mental capacity to understand in entirety). All of his friends would be there. They would be eating, grinding, eating and grinding; there were countless options.

Bonnie, meanwhile was locked in her room, crying quietly. Her sweet, music loving son used to show her off to the other parents. Now Charlie was embarrassed by her. She read something about parents coddling their children, where they should never ask to leave or stay. If they're embarrassed at a young age, that means the parent is doing something wrong. If they keep toddler close (as the article had called it) there was an outside force that harmed the child early on. Charlie asking Bonnie to leave might mean she was doing something right. Or maybe he didn't love her. There was only one sure fire way to find out.

#

Later that night, at dinner, Bonnie tested what the magazine theorized. "Charlie, sweetie?"

Charlie looked up from his mashed potatoes, the exact consistency he liked. "Yeah?"

"You love me, don't you?"

"Of course I do mom."

"Good. Good." They were silent for another five minutes. "And you know I love you, right?"

"If you didn't, grandma would be telling me about eternal damnation about now."

"Don't say 'damn', sweetie. You sound uneducated, even if you're right about grandma."

Charlie wondered if she heard Mac explain to him, "Bro, a dick in the mouth is worth just as much as a tongue in the pussy. Together, it's almost the quantity of an actual fuck, especially if you know where to put your tongue. Stay near the clit, but the pussy is fine, too."

He worried about this becoming a lecture, so he said "I'm turning in early," kissed her on the head, and said, "Good night" Clearly, he wasn't really going to bed. He was going to masturbate to Rachel from _Friends_. A much nicer alternative, especially when using the profanity he was yielding a lecture from.

* * *

OK this is my first fanfic ever, so tell me what you think :)


	2. Chapter 2

On a Monday

11:38 am

Philadelphia PA

Ronald McDonald sat at his usual table, staring at his female tablemate. Her blonde hair was wavy today, her nose in a book, her back brace making her look trapped in a cage. _The flightless bird stuck in the metal cage_, Mac thought metaphorically.

"Are you staring at me?" Dee asked, using a dry tone. She was one of those people who you couldn't pick a mood from her voice. It was one of the few qualities she liked. Not just tone wise, but the way she spoke in general.

Mac changed the subject. "What the fuck are you reading _1984_ for? It's 1996, Sweet Dee. Keep with the times."

"It's a school assignment, dumbdick." Dee perked up. "It's actually really good! There's technology we haven't even come close to-"

"Whatever. It's not like we'll be reading it 10 or 20 years from now."

Dee shrugged. If she were a teacher, (which sounded like hell; kids were sticky assholes) her students would read _1984_. There were some significant lessons to be learned, if the kids were smart enough. Dee was one to talk, though. She wasn't reading, though; she was musing over the past 2 years.

**Dee Muses in an Angsty Fashion**

By the end of freshman year, Dee had become suicidal. She would starve herself some nights and cut herself every night. Her mother, Barbara, was no help to Dee's self worth. Looking back, she wasn't even fat; she wasn't as thin as she was now, but certainly not fat.

Over the summer, Dee had conflicting thoughts; part of her said to die already. It wasn't like anyone would miss her and she already gave up on any religious beliefs. Something kept her away from it. Suicide would be how Nikki Potnic and those assholes would win and the Aluminum Monster would lose. Dee was not one to lose without a fight.

So she shed her frumpy exterior in favor of a cooler look. She gave up the innocent look and went for a more rebellious look. She learned to apply eye makeup and give good hand jobs. She went to parties, one in which she had the best make out session of her life. She swore and drank more, building a resistance to both. Her cuts faded, becoming lines only she saw. Sophomore year was much easier, especially because, over the summer, she developed confidence and new friends through Charlie and Mac.

Was she suicidal? No. Did she hate herself? No. Did she love herself? Not necessarily. Dee was able to live with herself. An occasional self harm here or there, a sobbing letter to her diary filled with insults, a stolen can of beer from Mrs. McDonald; those were her coping methods when her stupid self was too hard to take. The insults she was called were always true, other than "slut" or something like that. She realized her faults, but the fact she just rarely cared kept her sane.

Dee heard a familiar voice enter her and Mac's near silent table, save for his chewing and her page turning. "Greetings," Charlie cheerfully half screamed, handing them each an envelope. Mac's envelope said "Mak" and Dee's said "Swet D".

"What the shit is this?" Mac asked.

"They're invitations," Charlie said, deflating his expression and voice like a balloon, as his voice sped up. If Dee was the master of the poker face, Charlie was the miserable newbie. "I'm having a birthday party. It's Saturday at my house. All our friends are invited."

"What friends?" Mac and Dee said at the same time.

"You know, like…," Charlie looked on the next invitation, "Fatty McGoo." Charlie had tried to write "Ingrid" on her envelope, but had misspelled it as "Engred". Mac was secretly proud for Charlie's sake. No one else would call Fatty McGoo by anything but Fatty, Fat Ass, or just poke the invitation between her fat rolls.

"Whatever, alright? My mom won't be there, you're the first people I invited, other than-"

"OK, I'm going to stop you there," Dee said, holding her hand to stop Charlie, "did you mean you invited us before Dennis?"

"Well, I haven't seen Dennis yet," Charlie said. He and Dennis always met under the bleachers when people weren't around. Dennis was more popular than Charlie and was clearly ashamed of his friendship with the gang.

This was misinterpreted by his other friends. "Charlie likes us more than Dennis," Dee explained to Mac, who replied with a "Nice" and a high five. Dee was right; they accepted Charlie more than Dennis does. Mac was his friend since the days they both went to Catholic school and Dee just needed someone to talk to. Nonetheless, they were a lot nicer than Dennis usually was.

"That's not what I-," Charlie started, but decided it was fruitless, "OK, yeah, whatever. I like you guys more than Dennis."

Mac internally smiled, knowing he was still Charlie's best friend. Who else would he throw rocks or grow beards with?

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Dee went in the opposite direction of Mac and Charlie, going to the bathroom before her next class.

#

In the ladies room mirror, there was a note stuck to her back brace. It typically said something like "aluminum monster", but something compelled Dee to read it anyway. It could be something good for once or push her back to complete loserdom. Either way, she was feeling adventurous.

It read _Meet me in Bonnie's room at the party. 8:30. It'll be worth it. PS._

Dee's first thought was "Who the fuck was PS?" It probably wasn't a gag from Mac or Charlie; the handwriting was too nice to be from them. Dennis wasn't even aware of Charlie's party yet, ruling him out. Shit, he didn't even know Charlie's birthday was coming up. It wasn't likely another popular boy or girl either, since they, like Dennis, didn't know Charlie was having a party or Ms. Kelly's real name. Maybe PS was supposed to add more, but forgot? Like, _PS: Ditch the brace_? It was probably safe, but Dee would bring pepper spray just incase.

* * *

Do you think I made Dee a little angsty? It's a master plan I have :)

And if your worried, trust me; Frank comes into play.


	3. Chapter 3

On a Tuesday

3:44 pm

Philadelphia, PA

"Charlie, how can you be so goddamn illiterate and actually pass English? It boggles my goddamn mind."

"Well, if you don't want to go, then don't!"

"Oh, no. I'm going. If Dee's going, I'm not missing it."

Dennis stood under the bleachers with Charlie, who was evidently three months older than himself and Dee, two months older than Mac, and having an unsupervised party over the weekend. He seemed surprised by Dennis' confirmation, just as Dennis had expected.

"Really?" Charlie asked, sounding genuinely surprised, "You don't have another party to go to or something? I already thought it was unlikely you of all of my friends would make it."

Dennis sighed. "Must I repeat myself? I am not missing what you consider a party," the self proclaimed popular friend half laughed, "now give me the goddamn fucking card." The envelope said "Deniss" on it, a gross blasphemy of Dennis' name. Then again, what would he expect for his most likely dyslexic or literally retarded friend?

It was a cold day, but warm for February in Pennsylvania. Both Charlie and Dennis just wore jackets, the latter's significantly nicer and the formers…probably had tissues in the kangaroo pouch? Dennis didn't know, nor really care. Dennis was smoking a cigarette for no other reason except it looked cool and it was his right as an American citizen. Charlie had only one envelope left in his hand; his chubby hands were covering the misspelled name, making Dennis wonder who the invite was to.

"Have anyone else to invite, Buddy?" Dennis inquired. It was always fun to see who Charlie considered a friend. Even those twins from his and Mac's old school who smelled like milk and cum were Charlie's friends.

"Yeah. Remember that waitress at the coffee shop that you guaranteed was in college and out of my league?" Dennis nodded. She was, anyhow. She wasn't hot, but she was still out of Charlie's league.

"It turns out, she goes here. I need to invite her."

**Dennis Kind Of Meets The Waitress**

"Do you even know her name?"

"Yeah, it's-"

As if on cue, the not really pretty waitress and a tall, lean brunette walked by on the track. "Be right back," Charlie said, tipping an imaginary hat.

#

Charlie jumped out to surprise both girls in the most sensual (read: most disturbing and similar to a rapist) fashion he knew how to achieve. Dennis peeked through the bleachers to watch the excitement unfold. It would be good for a laugh later on.

"Charlie!" The Waitress was already freaking out, "What the fuck? I told you to leave me alone."

"_All_ the time? I mean come on," Charlie gave her a "let's be rational" smile. Dennis smiled as the train wreck that is Charlie's romantic attempts unfolded. "It's almost my birthday. I was going to invite you to my party," Charlie held her envelope up, an attempt to entice her.

"Wait, _this_ is your Charlie?" the tall girl asked. Charlie and the Waitress both nodded. Dennis waited for a bitch slap in a "friends stick together and you were staring at my boobs" way. There were a lot of "ways" people did things, Dennis noted to himself.

She dissolved into a face one saves for kittens and puppies sleeping next to each other, interracial babies, and the beginning of most Disney movies. "He looks harmless." She looked him in the eyes, "I'll go to your party, you misunderstood soul." "Misunderstood soul" sounded sarcastic to Dennis, but the Waitress and Charlie both took it seriously.

The Waitress shot daggers at the tall girl as Charlie handed her the envelope. "Fine. I'll go, to keep Jennie safe," the Waitress said, now addressing who was evidently Jennie, "You don't even go here."

"Exactly! Dude, I need a party every once in a while. The home schooled need some fun, too." Jennie looked at the envelope, "Good god you're illiterate. How do you misspell a name as simple as hers?," she nodded to the Waitress.

"Eh. Ma. Gawd," Charlie said, taping into his inner valley girl, "You're home schooled? You need to party! To take away the religious fuddy duddy stereotype! You drink, right?"

"Who doesn't in this day and age? Someone here certainly does." The Waitress blushed.

"Scared nerds, according to my friend Dennis." _It was true, after all _Dennis thought to himself. Dee didn't drink until Dennis told her how cool it really was and she can put away a fuckton of booze almost three years later.

"OK, info's on the card?" Jennie asked to make sure. Charlie decided to give a thumbs up for some weird reason. They called in union, "See you then!" as the Waitress dragged Jennie by the tails of her Sherlock Holmes esque peacoat to the other side of the track.

#

Charlie scurried back to Dennis, excited to see if he approved. Dennis gave his popular friends looks of approval if they did something right. Sometimes, Dennis gave Mac this approving look, and even Dee received it once. It looked like a look his mother gave, but less mushy. Maybe Charlie would receive that look. "Holy shit!" he grinned ear to ear, "Did you see me? Did you see me go all sensual on Jennie, and even better…," Charlie stopped when he realized how few fucks Dennis gave.

"Yeah, so I'll see you Saturday," Dennis said, going to Lemon Hill or Park or whatever it was. Charlie was never invited anyway.

"OK," Charlie called out, a bit for longed feeling. He almost walked back to squeeze between the two women walking away, but they were gone.

Charlie vowed to himself then and there, under the bleachers, as a fat student and teacher couple made out to his right and the track team took drags on his left (or vice versa; Charlie had no fucking clue about his right and left, but knew the student and teacher couple was east and the track team was west), Dennis would give him what will now be referred to as "The Look of Approval" by the time they graduate.

* * *

Jennie is based off of a really cool and badass friend of mine. We met through a mutual adoration of Always Sunny and Tumblr. It makes the drinking line ironic, since neither of us drink.

Oh gosh it's fun writing as Dennis, but angst is my default so it's kind of hard.

I'll say it now, no one in this chapter is PS, if your curious.


	4. Chapter 4

On a Wednesday

6:33am

Philadelphia, PA

Mac didn't feel like going to school today. There wasn't a test or something, he just didn't feel like going anywhere today. He needed to call Charlie to say he wouldn't be there today, then make his mom call him in sick.

He dialed Charlie's familiar number. Mac memorized it back in kindergarten, before he got that badass address book for Christmas. The first few times he called, the very first few times, they both were really concerned something bad would happen, like a pedophile would pick up. Mac had nothing to worry about, however. His fear of Uncle Jack was clearly irrational as he got older.

It only took a few rings for Charlie to pick up. "Mac?" Charlie answered, a little sleepy.

"Hey, Charlie," Mac responded, "I'm definitely not going to be in school today, OK? Just head in without me."

Charlie sounded a little more awake now. "Alright, sure. Do you want me to tell Dennis or Dee?"

Shit. Mac forgot about them. "Nah. I'll call them, too. Do you think you can handle Dee without me?"

"What do you mean, 'handle Dee'?" Mac could only imagine Charlie used air quotes over the phone. Mac would never know, though. That realization made him a little sad for some odd reason.

"Do you think you can have a conversation at lunch without me there?"

"I've done it before, Mac."

When the hell did this happen? "Alright, because you know the alternative, right?"

"I could handle him, too, but I think I'll just stick with Dee."

"I'll see you tomorrow, dude. 'Kay?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." They hung up at the same time.

**Mac's Day Off**

Next, Mac called Dee's private line. Despite her mother's belief no one would ever call her, she still had her own line. She sounded more awake than Charlie when answering. "Hello?"

"Dee? It's Mac. I'm not going to school today."

"Why? Are you too lazy to pull yourself away from porn again?" That happened _once_ and Dee still brings it up.

"No. There's no porn this time."

"Did you make a collage for Charlie?"

"Maybe I will."

Dee laughed. She had a nice laugh, one that's easy to see on her face. Mac could picture her wide, open smile, and stopped when he realized profiling people on the phone was creepy. Then again, he had the whole conversation with Charlie, so he didn't worry.

While he was still thinking of it, "Do you think Charlie and you can have a conversation together at lunch?"

"Definitely. Feel better!" and she hung up.

"I'm not sick," Mac pathetically informed the dial tone.

#

Mrs. Mac was completely ok with Mac being home alone and not in school for any reason other than he felt like it. He's the one who will fail and live with, as she put it, "Either the gay one, the bitch, or the short one." Mac failed to see the passive aggressive quality of her comment, and just stayed home.

Because of his conversation with Dee, he decided jacking off was a little hypocritical. He watched a video recording of _Beavis and Butthead _instead. Beavis and Butthead always reminded Mac of a watered down version of Charlie and himself, respectively, and with Dee as Daria. The only real differences are Mac's mutual, almost paternal love for Charlie and occasional romantic feelings for Dee.

Charlie didn't have a father. Mac sort of did. Together, they were each others fathers. When Mac came home from prison on fathers day, he and Charlie would throw rocks together or, more when they were younger, talk about Ninja Turtles. It was a better conversation than what Mac would have with his dad; typically, Luther gave Mac tips on how to sell pot at school, then have weird sex with Mrs. Mac and sometimes the security guard.

Dennis came in the picture after Mac was moved to public school. No one wanted to talk to the baby faced Catholic boy, but Dennis thought his shirt was cool. His exact words were, "Oh my god you're arms are huge! Did you rip the sleeves off yourself?" They've been friends since, sharing blood in the AIDS epidemic and going on slightly more calculated schemes.

Enter Sweet Dee: the tall, beautiful, and braced twin sister of Dennis, Mac was obligated to tease her. Around the summer before sophomore year, Dee started getting cooler, in a sense. She had comebacks to his insults and met Charlie (Dennis had met three years before, but never invited Charlie over out of fear of breaking shit), two requirements to be a friend. Mac first realized she was hot when she yelled profanities at a historical tour; "Hey, boners! I'm going to be famous one day! This is history!" Ever so often, Dee would be pretty again, but a lot of the time she was just Dennis' oddly cool sister who was a fun punching bag.

Mac paid attention to the screen for the first time in a while. It was the episode where Beavis gets stuck in one of those blood pressure machines, one of Charlie's all time favorites. It felt a little irreverent watching alone, but not enough to motivate Mac to quit watching.

It was around the time the "Die Cheerleader" video was mocked that Mac realized he was lonely. Fortunately, he knew just what to do. When he would someday beat up a drunk rapist or whatever lowlife piece of shit the Lord sent him, he would find a weak spot and give it a badass roundhouse. The weak spot of being lonely was being able to do things too humiliating in public. This gave Mac an idea.

#

Three hours later, everything was perfect. The cookies were cooled off, but still gooey; the letter within the card was written; the game of Simon was dusted; and the two sided collage was completed. Charlie's birthday gifts were totally set. There were enough cookies in the fridge to eat without eating Charlie's, not to mention Mac's mom would be happy there were cookies.

The letter in the card read: _Charlie, you're the best friend I ever had. You remind me there are people who want me to succeed. Even though I might call you retarded or white trash, I still really care about you. Happy birthday! From, __Mac_

Charlie used to be obsessed with Simon, to the point Mac would hide it when Charlie came over if he asked. After a while, Charlie forgot about Simon and they got into new things. To keep things still his, Mac left a note on the back, reading _This is a loan._

Of course, there was the two sided collage. On one side, there was a testament to the Mac and Charlie friendship. Pictures of their friends, their hobbies, and their favorite things dominated the poster board originally used as a presentation about the industrial revolution. On the back, there was porn. It had the stuff Mrs. Kelly never let in the house. The double sided idea allowed Charlie to keep it in his room without his mom knowing. Mac was proud of this idea. It was ideas like this that Dennis' gave him a proud look, like a tired parent when their kid did something so incredibly right. Mac received it most out of the gang.

Now that his gifts to Charlie were done, Mac decided the only logical thing to do now was to sleep more. Staying up from 1 to 6:30 was no way to live.

* * *

I'm not really passionate about Mac/Dee or Charlie/Dee, but they both make sense, which is more than Glee can say for itself most days.

Sorry if the _Beavis and Butthead_ stuff is inaccurate. I never saw the early ones (I was 2 months old when this takes place) and got the information from Wikipedia.

fluff: thank you! The main reason it focuses on Charlie is because he's the oldest in the gang (according to season 3), and I think it's what goes on in the sane part of Charlie's head.


	5. Chapter 5

On a Wednesday

11:30

Philadelphia, PA

Charlie looked at his lame lunch, wondering what to eat first. There were the slimy peaches, the barely safe to drink milk, the mix of his top 4 least favorite vegetables, and what the Board of Education called "steak". Nothing really appealed to his appetite.

Dee, however, brought her lunch from home today. She had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a soda, and chips of a flavor Charlie couldn't quite make out. His stomach growled, making Dee take pity and give him her napkins.

"Thanks," Charlie said. He really didn't mind eating the peaches when he had the napkins wrapped around them, like a peach burrito. He and Dee ate in silence for a while, both of them thinking the same thing.

"I wonder what Mac's doing," Dee said.

"Want to play 'What Are They Doing'?" Charlie asked.

"What the shit is that?"

"We literally imagine what Mac is doing. When we decide on him, we think of other people that aren't us."

Rather than sit across from Charlie, as she did for Mac most days, Dee sat directly next to Charlie. She turned and said, "Ok, I guess."

**Charlie and Dee Make Headcanons**

"What do you think he's doing?

Charlie thought for a minute. "I have a few theories."

"Spill," Dee commanded, getting a little excited. Talking about Mac without him around always made her happy.

"First, I think he could be sleeping, I mean, what do you do without school?"

"Sleep."

"Exactly! Next, and I don't know if he wants me telling you, but he likes baking and cooking sometimes, so maybe he's cooking a little?"

Cooks were a little bit of a turn on for Dee. It allowed her to be lazy and was also a shared interest. She bit her lip and nodded for Charlie to go on.

"Or maybe he's watching TV? We tend to do that a lot."

"Right there with you," Dee told Charlie's ever changing eye color. Today it was a bluish green, yesterday it was hazel. _What the fuck, irises? Choose one fucking color! Is that too much to ask?_

"Do you have any theories?" Charlie asked.

"Hm…," Dee originally thought Mac was going to fantasize about women that weren't her. With Charlie, that worry kind of went away, with lack of a better word. So what if Mac liked someone else? It didn't feel important.

"Maybe he's…at Jiffy Lube with his mom?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow. Dee continued.

"And she's working while Mac's sitting in the waiting room. And there's some kids movie pretty much everyone's seen now, like _Toy Story_." Dee started getting into it. "It, like every public establishment no one wants to be at, is just chilly enough to be uncomfortable. There's a young family sitting quietly at a 90 degree angle from Mac. The parents are overweight, taking up the whole couch; the kid isn't really 'fat' and watching the movie. Mac is hungry, but he has no money for the vending machine. Besides, it might be rude to eat in front of the fat people. Mrs. Mac promised when she's done with the fat peoples car, she'll take him to a fast food restaurant. It's taking to goddamn long. He focuses on the movie."

Charlie's jaw hung slack. He had stood up for some reason that escaped Dee while in her synopsis. She always forgot Charlie was a little chubby. He was potbellied, with pudgy fingers and a nice looking bulge. It was almost like looking at an oversized toddler, except much… Dee looked for the word… older? Taller? Dare she say cuter?

"That was incredibly detailed!" Charlie said, a tint of pride in his voice.

Dee smiled, accomplished, "Thanks, Charlie."

"Credit where credit is due, Sweet Dee."

As Charlie sat down, his arm moved awkwardly, knocking his milk all over his steak. "Oh shit!" He decided then it was a good idea to try it. "Oh shit!" he said again, this time smiling and with his mouth full.

"This is delicious," Charlie told Dee, "Want some?"

"I'll pass," Dee declined as politely as she could. She changed the subject. "How's your birthday planning coming along?"

Charlie chewed the steak about half as long as the other poor steak losers, cooing with each bite. "I'm calling this milksteak. You'll know what that is in 18 years, right?"

How in God's name would she forget? "Definitely," she said.

The rest of lunch consisted of Charlie telling Dee plans for his party. His mom bought a bunch of weird ass beers, like peach schnapps. There were plans to have an ice cream cake and cupcakes for the lactose intolerant. Dee was getting more excited by the minute, and she considered showing Charlie her PS letter. She decided not to, since Charlie probably had less clues than she did. Or worse: he did know and would embarrass her by telling PS out of context bullshit.

#

The bell rang. Dee and Charlie left together, planning to part ways immediately. Rather, Charlie followed Dee to her next class. On the way there, Dee asked Charlie something that's been bugging her for a while: "Why didn't you sit with-"

"Because I prefer you. Don't flatter yourself, Dee, he's an asshole."

"Isn't he invited?"

"Of course he is! I should go. See you later, Dee!"

Dee felt a pang of pity for Charlie being alone. Her class was half full, making her feel less so. That was actually inflated by a popular girl who shall go unnamed (Dee's to classy for that), who said "how cute the Aluminum Monster looked with Dirt Grub", adding kissing noises and sarcastic love notes. It almost sounded right, despite the teasing in her voice. Dee smiled; despite the lack of Mac, it was a pretty good day.

* * *

I noticed, along with others, it was getting a little Mac/Dee in previous chapters, but I liked the idea of a nonverbal Mac/Dee/Charlie love triangle for a while. To be honest, I'm impartial for whoever gets her, if either of them get her.

Next chapter focuses on Frank. My official OTP is Frank/Artemis, but Artemis doesn't meet the gang for a while.

Thank you everyone who favorited/allerted/reviewed this :) means a lot, folks


	6. Chapter 6

On a Friday

6:20 pm

Philadelphia PA

This was one of those rare Friday nights both of Frank Reynolds children were home. Dee wasn't at a sleepover or the movies (she had a penchant for watching them herself) and Dennis wasn't at a party or whatever the shit popular kids did nowadays. Frank was never popular, but he had his own fun, more like his daughter.

This particular moment was a bad example of how Sweet Dee was more like Frank. She was reading a book that was either old or read several times by her before. Dennis had his eyes glued to the TV; some shit with screaming and boobs. This would be more acceptable if it wasn't dinner. Barbara wasn't home. She was on a spa vacation with some friends and their bat mitten instructors.

**Frank Tries to Parent**

"Deandra," Frank asked, his Jersey accent slurring her name a little, "Whatcha reading?"

"_Deenie_," Dee responded, "it's about a girl with scoliosis. She was my age when she got her brace. I read it a lot back when I first got the brace-"

"Yeah," Dennis started, "but Deenie had more friends than you and was really pretty and shit, remember?"

"Dennis don't insult your sister," _even if it's true_. Frank tried to think of a new subject. "Are you two doing anything tomorrow?"

"I'm going to a party," Dee said. "Dennis and I both are."

"Not as a date, right?"

Both of his kids narrowed their eyes in a _what the hell are you thinking? _way. They took turns speaking in their "twin" way. Part friendship, part rivals; it was like watching improv comics.

"No."

"God no."

"Why the hell would you even _say _something like that?"

"Dad, look at her. She's gross."

"I am not gross! You just have bad taste. If you lowered your standards, maybe you'd get laid more."

"No ones standards are low enough to go for an aluminum monster."

Frank stood up and walked upstairs, his kids battle growing more intense. He missed when they were little and didn't feel the need to beat the other at anything yet. When Dennis made Dee's "sweet" namesake, or when Dee read to Dennis. They used to be so sweet until his whore wife got an influence on them.

It was more on Dee than Dennis. Barbara was always disapproving of what Dee did, even if she usually would agree with them. She just straight up didn't like Dee. Dennis learned most of his behavior from his mother. By the time they were seven, Frank just thought _Fuck it, they aren't changing. _

It was different than his own family in some respects. For one, Frank's parents clearly loved him. They were serious and a little disappointed with how he came to be, but they let him know how much Frank was loved before they died. He got along with Gino in their adult years, too, until Sha'Dynasty came along and fucked up their relationship.

Since then, he just fucked a lot more women, like Bonnie or the OCD redhead. Frank was never alone when he had those women, and when Barbara was pregnant, Frank let her keep those kids. Then, when they're in their 30's, Frank can hang out with them. His "almost anything goes" parenting should make it easy to be their friend when they grew up.

Dee and Dennis had sounded like they finished their dinner. There was no clinking of dishes or intense dialogue. They left the table in favor of the couch, talking quietly, still like improv comics, with the TV still on the screaming boob show.

"So you know that kid we babysat a few weeks together?" Dee asked.

"Jackie?"

"Yeah, Jackie. Sweet kid, despite the fact she's Canadian."

"What about her?" Dennis asked. "If you're going to read her _Deenie_, there's no way in hell her parents will let her read Judy Blume."

"They let her see R rated shit," Dee said, "Not the point. Did it seem like she had a thing for Charlie?"

"Good lord yes!"

"OK good I'm not alone."

And the conversation just stopped there. Frank wanted to jump in with his kids conversation, but they couldn't see him eavesdropping. Oh well, fuck his kids. He'll call someone he knows. He won't force himself upon them for a few more years. It's weird now.

The first number he dialed was one he called several times in his past. Frank knew she needed somewhere to stay over the weekend, and he needed a woman better than Barbara. He got her answering machine. "Hey, it's Frank. I was thinking you could stay here tomorrow night? My kids won't be home, but I kind of think you should sleep with me. OK you have my number. Be careful, the kids could come home at any time. Bye. It's frank again." Frank hung up and sighed. He wasn't that great to her, and wondered what would have happened if he stayed with her instead of Barbara. Oh well, it wouldn't be too much different, he decided.

Next he called a local drug dealer, famous for giving hot shots to prostitutes. "Luther?" Frank asked when he picked up the phone. "Jesus you sound awful!"

"I'm not Luther," the voice said, "I'm his wife."

"Oh," Frank said, "Well, can you put him on the phone?"

"No," she said. She didn't sound like a woman. Maybe she was a tranny. Those Y chromosomes will do that.

"Why not?" Frank was getting combative now.

"Because he's in jail."

What? "What?"

"If you're looking for more drugs, Luther told me to tell you about some people under the bridge, he said you'd know what he meant."

"I'll check them out. Thanks, tranny wife."

"I'm not a tranny. I just smoke." And the tranny wife hung up.

The rest of Frank's evening went as usual. Frank took some weed, passed out, and gave just enough time for Dennis and Dee to sneak out and see Mac and Charlie. He suspected such; Dennis and Dee would've been allowed to leave, but it was more fun to watch them cover their tracks. That's one thing he'll miss when they become friends.

Besides. Frank won't have to pretend he cares about his daughters sexual activeness. It's her goddamn body and that back brace ain't doing any favors.

* * *

I think it was kind of obvious who Frank called first, but I tried to make it mysterious. I don't think Frank is as angsty as the rest of the gang, mainly because of his age. I do think he's lonely, though. I think they're all lonely. Even Dennis, but his is subconscious.

Jackie is another friend. She runs a Charlie Day Tumblr and a cat Tumblr. I wonder if she reads these.

From this point on, it focuses on the party. Next chapter is when it starts, after that PS is revealed. Warning: that chapter is probably going to be my darkest.

Also, updates might stop being as frequent. I have finals coming up. OTL


	7. Chapter 7

On a Saturday

8:20 pm

Philadelphia, PA

The party had just started. Guests were on their first or second drink, the decorations were yet to be tore down, the house wasn't a shithole yet. There was that linger of sexual energy you get at almost any high school party, where the guests want to make out, but they don't feel brave enough yet. A few steady glasses of alcohol should help take the common sense away. Screw those last 4 months of awkward classes if this hookup doesn't last; it was tonight, they were at a losers party, and there was a very high chance they wouldn't remember what happened.

Dennis Reynolds was the unusual outsider looking in at the party. Not because he was shy or insecure or anything (at least, not consciously), but because these people were beneath him and his social godliness. Dennis Reynolds was a beautiful human being, something that escaped his sister and father somehow.

"Dennis!" a familiar voice screeched his name. It was too huskey to be a girl, to low to be a normal boy. It did, however, give people on the phone something to guess.

"Hey, Charlie," Dennis said, "how's the party rolling?"

"Rolling like a beer can on the wheelchair ramps," Charlie assured. His confidence was likely booze based alone. "Hey, have you seen-"

"Aaayo!" Mac called out, on what Dennis counted was his third beer of the evening. "What are we talking about?"

"Um, how kick ass my party is!"

Things got more stupid by the minute when Mac and Charlie were A. Together and B. ingesting alcohol of any kind. Shit was going to go down tonight, but it should be in Dennis' pants. His goal

Dennis slipped out of the conversation to get some more booze. It was going to be a long night. He took a mental survey, distinguishing the closest to not being a loser in the party.

He was sipping a bottle of peach schnapps, looking over the part of the student body that considered themselves friends with Charlie. These included:

himself (obviously),

-Mac

-Dee

-Two incest committing brothers from Mac and Charlie's old school

-The Waitress and Jennie

-Fatty McGoo

-Rickety Cricket (who's leg brace broke and was dragging himself out),

-Stacie Corvelli the slut

-some losers Dennis could care less about

-and… there was someone missing.

Jennie was a clear dork and The Waitress was kind of gross, but they were the best people at the party, especially because Cricket was face down and dragging himself away as well as he could manage. Dennis swallowed his pride and walked to tap The Waitress on the shoulder, but chickened out and tapped Jennie instead.

**Charlie Has a Party: Dennis' Story**

"Hey," Dennis said, "I'm Dennis. Never saw you around before."

"Oh, that's because I'm home schooled. I'm Jennie, and this is-"

"I know you. You're the coffee shop waitress, aren't you?"

The Waitress smiled bashfully, possibly trying to flirt. "Mmm hmm."

Dennis utilized the only thing he knew about both women; "You ladies want a drink?"

#

A few hours later, all three (Dennis, The Waitress, and Jennie) were stone cold drunk. Jennie passed out on Dennis' arm, who shoved her on the other arm of the couch. Her dress rode up a little it, showing her panties. Being the coinsurer of female anatomy he was, he let out an (audible?) meh.

The Waitress was going on about her home life. Dennis listened to snippets at a time before he would get pissed off.

Basic analysis: "I've been working at the coffee shop all my life to support my parents alcoholism, Jennie is moving on in life, I hate myself," bla bla bla. Dennis added a random "you're special to me" or "they have no idea what they're missing" or, the best lie yet, "alcoholism isn't hereditary, you have nothing to worry about" to nurture her dependence. Dennis knew a way to get women to want him, but he had to test it on The Waitress first. Maybe the banging phase should've been earlier; his only complaint so far.

When he wasn't listening to The Waitress ramble, he was trying to see what was going on between Mac, Dee, and…THAT'S where he was. He and Mac must have pulled a hilarious prank on Sweet Dee and someone got all butt hurt. Dennis would catch up in the morning, but something bugged him that typically didn't: why wasn't he invited?

For Christ sake, that was his sister, who he always called "sweet". He was always there to make sure pranks didn't get too out of hand to really, truly hurt her. Dennis and Dee were more than brother and sister, they were twins! He had to protect the poor girl. Who else would?

Dennis tuned back into The Waitress, realizing she was falling asleep, too. This gave him an idea.

Dennis leaned The Waitress onto Jennie, sliding one of her hands in Jennie's bra, the other in her panties. He snickered at the arrangement, knowing they might wake up with erotic feelings due to Dennis' presence. Maybe they'll become lesbians? Who knows; all Dennis knew is it wasn't his-

Oh. Shit. Was Jennie waking up while he was placing The Waitresses hands correctly?

"Yes, Dennis, I am." Jennie stood up (sleep made her more sober than The Waitress, evidently), removed The Waitresses hands, and used her own to slap Dennis across the face.

"Do you know what you just did?" Dennis asked. "Do you know what you just fucking did? Do you know what I can do to you?"

"I don't go to school with you, you dumb cunt! I'm home schooled."

"I can say things about you and the world will believe me."

"Because you're Dennis fucking Reynolds?"

"Yep, the infamous."

"Because you screamed it every few minutes. Do you even know my last name?"

He didn't. "Ketchup? Beer bottle? Couch?"

Jennie laughed. She laughed in a way that suggested she was still a bit drunk. Petering down, she said, "Fuck you, whore. I won't tell her what you did."

"I knew you'd see the light."

"I'm going to do something much worse."

#

Before she left the next morning, while her friend slept, Jennie left the following note in her rats nest of hair. On a usual day, it would be left in her bra, but last nights circumstances said otherwise.

Her friend was a little obsessive about keeping tabs hen people were "the one". Jennie knew Dennis couldn't handle her friends raw love.

So out came the little note which said _Dude! Dennis was so sweet to you last night. Never let him get away!_

_OXO Jennie_

That's what happens when you mess with someone who fights back, biatch!

* * *

There's about 5 chapters left. Then I'm going to do a 30 Rock fic. Sound good?

PS comes next! It gets dark, so you might not want to read it.


	8. Chapter 8

On a Saturday

8:30 pm

Philadelphia PA

Standing alone in Mrs. Kelly's bedroom made Dee feel the most insecure she's felt in years. Was this a prank or a friend? She had surveyed Charlie's party guests earlier and very few people were ballsy enough to even write the note.

At first, Dee thought it really could be Mac or Charlie. Charlie was immediately eliminated, mostly because the letter was legible and he probably wouldn't sacrifice his party just to spite Dee. Mac might, but was eliminated for one of the two reasons Charlie was: the handwriting was too nice.

It could've been Mathew Mara. He used to like her, and he might want revenge for making him literally eat shit. The Christian bullshit might just be a front and he's taking down the whole gang, one by one. Another part of Dee thought that's not like Rickety Cricket. He was a better man than anyone in the gang. Besides, if it was him, he was stuck I a broken leg brace, sliding out the door.

Maybe there was someone new Dee didn't account for, or someone who got a last minute pink eye or car trouble or someone better came along. There were a lot of people better than Dee; prettier, smarter, and less troubled. Oh, yes, and may we not forget THE FUCKING GODDDAMN BACK BRACE? No one wanted a broken girl, physically or mentally, and Dee was both in one stupid, bird like package.

No, don't cry here, Dee thought, not now, think of happy things. Take a sip of the hoppy beer Charlie got. Hoppy was a letter away from happy.

"Hi," yelled a new voice. Dee screamed. He screamed back.

Dee's eyes adjusted after a few minutes, but that might've been because of the lamp turned on. Before her was a tall, manly man. He was strong, with brown hair in a pompadour type thing and big brown eyes. He had this stupid smile, contrasting his decision to wear a grungy flannel shirt. It always contrasted.

"Schmitty! What the fuck are you here for?"

"PS: Peter Schmidt."

Well, Duh.

**Charlie Has a Party: Dee's Story**

"So, what is it you even want from me?"

"I want to bang you to get back at your brother."

"How does that get back at Dennis?"

"Dee, incase you haven't noticed, he loves you. Not many people will let their sister near their friends. He values you, despite the insults. Wasn't he the one who first started calling you Sweet Dee?"

Dee had never thought about that. "Why would you want to get back at him?"

#

On a Friday

3:30 pm

Philadelphia, PA

"Dennis," Schmitty called out to his friend.

Dennis turned to look at his friend, a slightly nervous expression on his face, "Hey, man. What's up?"

"Hey, uh," Schmitty realized Dennis seemed to be heading to their English teacher's room. The bell had rung about 15 minutes ago. "Why are you heading into Gilbert's?"

Schmitty's ear now had Dennis covering his hand around it. He whispered, "We're banging. I'll get a good word in there for you."

That was Dennis, always looking out for him, or so he thought.

Monday rolled around. Ms. Gilbert passed the quizzes back. Dennis got an A, Schmitty got a C. Either Dennis said something bad or nothing at all. Schmitty couldn't decide which was worse. He needed revenge.

The plan pretty much fell into his lap. Charlie invited him to the party, He mentioned Dee would be there, and the only logical thing was to bang Dee.

#

Dennis wasn't banging the teacher. He was getting tutored. He had to keep it a secret so as not to disrupt his shine of perfection and so he could call Charlie illiterate.

"I'm not banging you to get revenge on my brother," Dee said, "but we could do sex things." She wasn't losing her virginity for revenge sake, but Schmitty was too goddamn cute to not take advantage of for this situation.

"Such as…" Schmitty prodded.

"You could ear me out."

"Can you get naked?"

"I'm keeping my bra on, you stay in your boxers or briefs or whatever, we turn out the lights, you do it under a blanket."

"Deal," said Schmitty and on they went.

Dee and Schmitty slowly undressed for each other, like a tender peep show. First, they both took off their kicks (Dee's were black, Schmitty's were blue). Then, Dee took off her shirt, revealing her neon green, lacy bra. Then Schmitty unbuttoned and took off his flannel shirt. He had a white undershirt under, relieving Dee that she wouldn't have to take off more. They both took off their jeans, revealing Dee's boy shorts that matched her bra and Schmitty's silky red boxers. Schmitty took off his white shirt, revealing a hairy chest and a slightly pudgy stomach, not unlike Charlie or Mac's. Did Dee have a type.

"Are those cutting scars?" Schmitty said, referring to Dee's thighs.

"They're old," Dee said, "and I'm quitting." At least, she's trying to quit. The last time she did that was a few weeks ago, when her mom said no one loves her. This was proving false.

Schmitty shrugged, thank God. Dee laid in Bonnie's bed, sliding off her panties and her lower half of her body under the blankets. He reached his head under, and then

Holy hell this man knew how to please! Dee let out a quiet pur when he started. With his hand, he grazed her legs, over the scars, around the skin surrounding her official "parts". It gave Dee that familiar tickly feeling, a sweetness and a turned on feeling all at the same time. She smiled and blushed.

Then came the official moment. The one where Schmitty's tongue entered Dee's pubic reason. This was a man who knew how to eat. He always beat the test of the gang in eating contests. She was immediately turned on. Dee could tell she was wet, but she didn't really feel it because of Schmitty and his eating out ways. She was feeling powerful things; painful, but still needed.

It went on like that for about 20 minutes, when they both came. The first no cloudy thought Dee had was _What should we do with Schmitty's cum?_ He had taken care of that, in fact. Schmitty had taken his boxers off, revealing a rather nice ass, but he had cum in a dishrag. That was pleasantly resourceful.

"That was amazing," Dee said, looking for her boy shorts.

"Thanks," Schmitty said, "You weren't too bad yourself."

_Too_ bad?

"Do you like Mac or Charlie?" he asked.

Quietly, Dee answered, "Kind of both."

At separate points of her life, Dee had a crush on each of the. Mac's was in 7th grade after he slept over and was dared to kiss her (both of their first kiss), Charlie's was sophomore year, the first time greenman was revealed. Charlie was the first person she made out with, and she assumed it was mutual. The romantic attraction faded within those years, but Dee still harbors feelings for both.

Now fully dressed, Dee and Schmitty left Bonnie's room together, to face the world as the tasted and the taster.

* * *

OK, I said who PS was. Could you avoid saying it in the comments? Muy bien!

I got my 13 year old brother into Sunny. His favorite is Rickety Cricket :)

I'm surprised how well I did here, if I do say so myself. I might edit 7 a little :p


	9. Chapter 9

On a Saturday

8:55 pm

Philadelphia, PA

Frank wasn't a romantic man by any standard, but he had to fake it for the first time in a few years. He was meeting with a woman who he had forced to have an abortion. She ended up with some other shitty kid (she was a giant whore) who didn't let her come to his birthday party and she's crashing in Frank's mansion instead. His kids were God knows where (a birthday party in South Philly or something? How many goddamn kids have birthdays in February?), leaving him and Bonnie ample time to do as they pleased.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't the romancer he once was. More of his hair had fallen out and he was accused of not acting "age appropriate". Meanwhile, change in standards were brewing, leaving Frank out of the loop on both the older and younger ends. There was one thing he learned his moves from that always got him out of the funks: pornos.

**Charlie Has a Party: Frank's Story**

The bed sheets were a silky white, except there were strands of grass on top instead of rose petals. He wasn't going to use fucking rose petals; what pussy would think that's cool? He lit some candles, some with hemp wicks, some without. It made things kinkier, with the added privilege of drugs. The piece de resistance was the bottle of aged, white wine and two glasses. Nothing like getting a hot mess tipsy, stoned, and hot all at once.

The doorbell rang. Frank put on his better looking glasses and trotted downstairs because when you're Frank, there's no other way to go down stairs. He liked escalators for that reason. He opened the door to a smiling older woman.

"Who the shit are you," said Frank, indignantly.

"It's me," she said, "Bonnie."

Frank was unpleasantly surprised. "You got all old and shit."

"So did you, Frankie."

Bonnie teared up a little, "Before I came here, I talked to my friend on the phone. She lives in Missouri, or misery as I call it. She had a little baby girl not too long ago. I thought of our baby boy."

"The dead fetus?"

"I told you before, Frankie. It didn't die. He was born and he is your son."

"You had a stillbirth?"

"No, you insensitive piece of shit! Our son! Charlie!"

A light bulb went off in Franks head. Charlie was the name of Dennis and Dee's retarted friend. Was that who's party they were at? Frank shook it off. _That's impossible_, he thought._ No one goes to the mental fuck ups parties!_ This kid had to be some other loser. He had the name of a fast food franchise; _Burger King_ or some shit.

Bonnie wasn't smiling. She always smiled, even when she was pissed, or having a fetus get stabbed inside her or however abortions work. Her dick son genuinely hurt her feelings. Frank had to comfort her, and there was only one way he knew how.

"Wanna come upstairs?"

#

An hour and a half later, Frank and Bonnie were in the fists of passion once again. Bonnie would slip off when she was on top, but Frank would hurt her when he was on top. Eventually, they decided he stands and plow her while Bonnie lays on the bed. This worked out rather well, in fact. Frank went in just deep enough to please Bonnie without clitoral stimulation. Frank was just happy he didn't feel the condom and the moans were genuine. He knew fake moans rather well, thanks to Barbara's passive aggressive tone.

"_Oh…OH…Frank, these are fake. Cum in your hand and give me a lube job." _

They came at the same time. It made things special or some woman shit like that. It never felt special before, but maybe it was because he felt a little bad for her. Maybe there were legitimate feelings there, but Frank chose to ignore them.

"Frankie," the croaky voice of Bonnie called out, "I'm allowed to sleep here tonight, right?"

This took him off guard. "Yeah, yeah. Oh god yeah." His voice was sympathetic for once. He tucked her in under the silk sheets, crawling in with her. Looking at the sheets, he remembered why rose petals were ysed so often: grass stains. "Shit," he murmured.

"The sheets?" Bonnie guessed.

"The sheets," confirmed Frank.

"I know how to get them out," she offered.

"Done," Frank smiled. He thought for a minute about what things would've been like if he left Barbara for Bonnie. She wasn't pregnant yet, it wouldn't have been scandalous or anything. If anything, it would have a happier ending. He and Bonnie would take care of the kid and maybe fall in love, Barbara could rot in hell, and Dennis and Dee would never be unhappy or existing. That's the best way to cheer someone up anyway; for them to never live. To never know what great horrors were in the world. They didn't know what they were missing, thus missed nothing. Like the dead fetus.

With that, they drifted off to sleep.

#

Around six or something, Frank woke up to the smell of bacon. He wandered downstairs to see Bonnie had made Frank breakfast.

"You were so sweet last night. Want something?"

"Yeah, but only if you will."

They ate together, laughed together, talked together. It was as if this wasn't their first time really seeing each other after 10 or more years. They stayed talking long into the day, living off pancakes, bacon, and fruit.

It wasn't until 5 in the afternoon Bonnie said. "Oh my goodness it's late! I need to check on my Charlie." They said their goodbyes and left, leaving Frank in a state of curiosity. Should he leave Barbara? He never really loved her and it was really just a title at this point.

Dennis and Dee snapped him out of his wandering thoughts. "Aw shit! Breakfast for dinner!" they said at the same time like twins do sometimes. Dee was polite and added a "thanks", as his kids sat and ate the very food Frank ate all day. It wasn't his ideal life, but he cared too much about Dennis and Dee to leave now.

* * *

I'm sorry, I just really wanted to troll a little. "Oh, wait, we're not seeing what happened when Mac found out about PS, we're seeing Frank's night. Lolol!" That's next chapter, don't worry.

Thanks for the finals well wishing. I have 3 more, then I'm off for the summer.

The baby in Missouri is me, by the by.


	10. Chapter 10

On a Saturday

10:05 pm

Philadelphia PA

Mac had enough alcohol in his system to make the average person drunk, but leave him only a bit buzzed. Nothing out of the usual there, but Dee seemed almost hung over. It was too early to look like that. Something was off.

He looked at her a little more. Her clothes were a little messed up, her hair was a bit flyaway, her makeup a little smudged, her face flushed. It made Mac think of coital action. Could Dee have lost her virginity before he did? No, that's not happening. She stays pure until Mac isn't.

"Hi, Mac," Schmitty popped out from beside him. He was hyper, like a dog. A golden retriever or some shit.

"Jesus, Schmitty," Mac said, "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, I've been doing that a lot tonight." Schmitty moved on to the subject that made him approach Mac. "Guess who let me perform cunnilingus on her to get revenge at Dennis?"

Mac motioned to the women on the couch. "One of them?"

"No," Schmitty said, "But they're pretty cute. Guess again."

Mac bit his lip and thought some more. "Fatty McGoo?"

"Oh god no! She's gross, move on."

Mac made the mental connection between Dee's heated face and Schmitty's slightly lost innocence.

"You fucked Sweet Dee?"

"With my tongue, so it's not necessarily fucking."

**Charlie Has a Party: Mac's Story with Bonus Character**

Nope. Nope. Dee was not going to be more experienced than Mac. That was the only reason he was mad.

"High five?" Schmitty prodded, completely unaware of Mac's mood.

Mac smiled and pretended to lean in for the high five. Rather, he bitch slapped Schmitty. It felt good, exhilarating even. He had a feeling of power over dicky Schmitty. The feeling was faltered, however, when Schmitty punched Mac in the face.

"Guess what, dick! Charlie invited me before you or Dee."

Mac was going to punch him back, but Dee came, seemingly from no where. "What the hell are you doing?" She glared at Schmitty. "You were going to tell people?"

"Of course! What's the fun of having sex without telling people?"

"We didn't have sex!"

"We came close," Schmitty shrugged.

Dee bitch slapped the cheek Mac didn't get, took slightly more drunk than he thought Mac up the stairs, and into Charlie's bedroom.

#

Bonnie's room would be a good "nursing" room, but after what happened there, Charlie's room would be better. Besides, his sheets were blood red and Mac's nose was bleeding. Schmitty had a surprising punch; that shit about sex before athletic activity was probably bullshit.

Bonnie kept Charlie's room looking nicer than he would, the goddamn slob. She made it look less like a kids room than it did a few months ago. She seemed to realize Charlie wasn't a kid anymore, or at least somewhat realize it. His bed was still a racecar, after all.

Dee laid Mac down on his stomach, letting him bleed for a little while. When he stopped, she turned him back on his back and assessed the damage to his face. He had a black eye, but he otherwise looked fine.

"Does your eye hurt?" asked Dee.

"A little," Mac responded, "it feels swollen."

"A little tip," Dee said, "never bitch slap someone while drunk, especially when he could punch you square in the face." She stood up to get a wet, cool rag to put over his eyes.

Fatty Mcgoo was standing in the way of the linen closet. The closet was right next to the food. Dee had a perfect burn to use that she thought of a few months ago. "Fatty, quit beating off to the food and move." It made her leave. Molly Shannon would be proud. Dee grabbed a blue rag, hearing once blue was soothing. She ran it under the bathroom sink, ringed out the excess water to prevent dripping, and went back to Charlie's room.

#

_Quit beating off to the food and move_, they said.

_She's gross_, they said

_Engred_, they called her.

Or _Fatty, Fat Ass. _

The fat pokes were the worst.

Ingrid Nelson left the party, tired of the insults thrown at her throughout the evening.

"I swear, someday, I'll lose weight. When I lose weight, I'll be successful. And then, their souls will be mine. All mine!" Ingrid laughed. It was an evil laugh, but a laugh alright.

"That's great," called a familiar, tired voice, "but can you take me home?"

"Oh, sure, Matty," Ingrid said to one of her, and Dee's, few friends. She picked him up, noticing his leg brace broke and he was shivering. A lot. "How long have you been out here?"

"About an hour," he said, "you know where I live, right?"

"The nicer part of town, like me." Matt nodded. He was leaning on her body, looking more like a question mark than an exclamation point. They looked weird together, as joined misfits, but they looked weird alone or with normal people, too. Fatty McGoo and Rickety Cricket. Together, forever alone. Which reminded Ingrid:

"Peter Schmidt gave Dee Reynolds head."

"I'm over her, Ingrid," Matt lied.

"Bitch, please," Ingrid said, "I'd bang her. Dee's hot."

"Yeah," he said, "but you're not straight and Dee is-"

"A total bitch that let you get away?" Ingrid asked. They sat at the bus stop together, in silence.

#

Ingrid didn't know this, but a little over 11 years later, she'd see Charlie and Dee in a clothing store. She knows Dee hasn't done much with her life. She knows seeing her now, after her liposuction, would kill her. The manager always left the key in the concrete outside the store. She knew exactly how her little "gang" would react. It was time.

Out she called. "Shut. Up."

#

"This feel ok?" Dee asked Mac, while in bed together.

"Could you go a little slower, actually?"

"Sure."

Dee was wiping the wash rag on his eyes, a calming motion for him. She knelt in Charlie's racecar bed, clearly loving to play nurse.

"Have you ever thought about being a nurse?" Mac asked.

"Too depressing," She deadpanned.

"But if acting doesn't work out-"

"I'm getting a psych degree."

"How is that less depressing than being a nurse?"

Dee sighed. "You don't have to watch them die."

Mac was feeling himself get sleepier. Dee was wiping his eyes. He was still unsure why. She said it was to reduce swelling, but he didn't see how that worked. He fell asleep

#

There was a trail of love spurring from Charlie's party at the stroke of midnight.

Frank was plowing Bonnie.

Dee was asleep on top of Mac. The tenderness of literally "sleeping together", before John Green.

Charlie was holding an unconscious Waitress over the toilet, keeping her from choking on her own vomit. It wasn't gross to him, but being Charlie and keeping her steady via her boobs was helpful.

Fatty McGoo was making out on a city bus with Rickety Cricket.

Dennis met Mac's prom date. They were banging.

Was this planned? They weren't sure, so probably no. All anyone knew was they were ecstatic at the moment, save for maybe Mac's prom date. There was this moment they would savor, all of them, in the city of Philadelphia, who were or were connected to this dyslexic, inhalant addicted loser. The odd anti hero of his friends and family. The thing that makes the raunchiness, dysfunction, and horrors of their life's almost beautiful. This beautiful, twisted thing that keeps everyone from being alone. Yes, Mac brought everyone together, but Charlie kept them together. Mac is a magnet, Charlie is the glue. They all stuck together. Sure, the booze might have something to do with it and maybe two people will stick around in the morning (in the Kelly house), but they'll forever be in this state of connection.

* * *

Guys, I don't want to scare you, but there's only one chapter left.

I really wanted to describe Schmitty as the dog from Up, but it wasn't out in 1996.

I love doing this! I write for an NBC comedy roleplay. I'm Britta from Community. It's close, but not really. Don't be surprised if I write another Always Sunny fic soon.


	11. Chapter 11

On a Tuesday

1:30 pm

Philadelphia, PA

"Remember that party I had back in senior year?"

Charlie was sitting opposite Dee on a barstool in Paddy's. Dee was on the other side, sipping her beer almost in time with him. Mac was taking a piss while Dennis was (probably) checking himself in the mirror. They always went to the bathroom together, like women sometimes. Frank was yet to arrive, but she suspected he was under that stupid bridge.

"The one where I got the best head of my life in your mom's bed?" Dee said, in her traditional deadpan voice. It didn't match the usual ways people talk about good sex acts. "Yeah, why?"

"Wait, what?" Charlie said. He was unaware of that. A flash of panic went through his brain. "Ok, not the point. It's been a while since I've had a party-"

"Or at least a party that didn't suck," Dennis said leaving the bathroom with Mac.

"Yeah, dude," Mac agreed, "the last ones were a load of shit. I think the only good one was," Mac thought for a minute, "remember that one from senior year?"

Mac was halfway to his original weight, but Dee thought this weight was sexier. It had a teddy bear quality to it, a way to make his baby face more babyish. Not in a pedophile way.

"We were just talking about it," said Dee, "the one you got punched in the face?"

"By the same guy you whored yourself out to?"

"It was mutual, dipfuck!" Dennis and Dee said at the same time. Dennis was the second person told of Schmitty's sexual act. Dennis was drunker, but he through a painful punch in Schmitty's eye. Mac and Schmitty had matching shiners for two days before Mac's faded away. He credited that to Dee.

Dennis changed the subject. "What happened to The Waitresses friend?"

"Jennie?" Dee confirmed, "She lives in Kansas, I think? I'm not really sure, but I think she had a kid a while back. Why do you ask?"

Dennis shrugged. "Just curious, I guess." He didn't know why, but he wanted the subject changed. His sister getting laid freaked him out somehow.

Frank walked in. "What's the action?"

"Are you still trying to start that?" Dennis asked while grabbing two beers from the bar. Dee rolled her eyes, partially for each man she spent her days with.

"Why not? It's cool," Frank said in a way that wasn't cool at all.

"If you're going to call yourself 'cool', don't make it sound like Eric goddamn Cartman."

"Shut up, Ronnie," Frank said to Mac's comment.

Just to stop the retarted conversation from going anywhere, "We were talking about Charlie's party from senior year."

A light bulb went off in Frank's head. "Did he ask his mom to leave?" Mac, Dee, and Charlie nodded. Dennis was still reaching for the beer. He had been cursed with perfect length arms, unlike his sister's bird like arms.

"You almost broke her heart that night," Frank scolded Charlie, "Thank god I was there. We banged and she made me breakfast."

"We ate Mrs. Kelly's whore leftovers for dinner that night?" Dennis asked from the bar.

"Yeah. Do you really think I'd make you guys shit?"

This sidetracking had gone on long enough. Charlie shrieked to gain the attention back to him. He learned a few years ago that people would want to learn why someone was yelling. Sure enough, the gang (save for Dennis who fell over the bar) looked up at him.

"I think I want to have another party."

**Charlie Almost Has Another Party**

"There's a flaw in your reasoning," Dee told Charlie. It's been years and she was still unsure of his eye color.

"What would that be?"

"You need more friends besides us."

Charlie smiled. "I'm friends with more people. I can invite plenty."

"Oh. Oh really, Charlie?" Dee prodded, "Name anyone that's not The Waitress, Artemis, your mom, or your sister."

"I'd never invite my sister," Charlie said, "she's 12 and her dad is scared of me." Her father had primary custody.

Dennis stood up. "I think it could be fun with just us, Artemis, and Mrs. Kelly."

"Maybe I can start a three way," Frank thought allowed.

The rest of the gang said something along the lines of, "God, Frank, don't be gross."

"OK, no party," Charlie said.

"It's for the best, kid," Dennis told Charlie. Dennis was now standing next to Dee. Mac and Frank sat on either side of Charlie. Dee handed them each a beer, mostly so Dennis could see he should've asked her. He noticed, but shrugged and continued sipping on his own acquired beer. The gang drank together, one of many things they do together. The scheme together, hang out together, fake their own deaths, hunt people, join dance competitions, have sex with each others loved ones, and so many other things. The best is when they're just together, peacefully talking, and filling the lonely in each of their cold, sad hearts.

* * *

This is it, guys. The end. Like I said, I'll probably do another Sunny fic before long. I'll write for my Tumblr RP, and I'll do stuff with other shows.

Obvious disclaimer: I own noting. If I did, this would be an episode.

Thank you everyone who reviewed, favorited, or allerted this. It really means a lot.

I'd like being friends with a lot of you at some point, just because you could put up with my misspellings, etc. Is that bad?

Overall perception: I loved writing this.


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